


Assist Counter: 5

by JCMorrigan



Category: Epithet Erased (Cartoon)
Genre: ALBEIT CENSORED, Also not Blaster on Blaster but it's sad, And this is my manifesto, Asexual Giovanni, BUT I CAN'T REMEMBER WHO MADE IT HELP, Based on a Tumblr Post, Biromantic Giovanni, But if you want to take this fic as pointing toward your fave Gio/Blaster ship, But still be warned the topic is broached, Car Accidents, Car Crash's first car crash, Coming Out, Exploration of the Creampuff name, Fanon names used for all unnamed Blasters, Friendship, Gen, Giovanni hugs everyone, Headcanon, Homophobia, Hospitalization, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, I don't mind a bit!, I let the Blasters swear more than usual, I stand for fans' right to headcanon, I'm having fun in the interim, IF ZORA CAN SAY FUCK, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Injury Recovery, It's offscreen and not Blaster on Blaster don't worry, OC villain - Freeform, Oh dear I have written an EE fic with...HEADCANONS, Otherwise they're all just pals, Sexual Harassment, Spike and Crusher both love him as per canon..., THAT'S RIGHT TRANS BIROACE GIOVANNI, THEN EVERYONE ELSE CAN, The more people are rude about fans' right to headcanon, The more pride flags I slap on Giovanni. Are we clear?, This is going to all be SO disproven if S2 happens, This will not be canon compliant as of S2 at ALL, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Trans Giovanni, Unrequited Crush, Watch all these names be hilariously wrong, and a lot of them, birthday angst, listen, physical violence, those are the rules
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:26:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22461076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JCMorrigan/pseuds/JCMorrigan
Summary: Five times Giovanni Potage selflessly swooped in to save his teammates from awful, soul-crushing situations!And...the one time they did that for him.***This was inspired by a Tumblr post saying someone should do this. I saw it. Then, like an idiot, forgot who made it, and a couple weeks later, realized I actually wanted to do this. And now I can’t find who suggested it in the first place. So if you’re out there and this was your idea, I just want you to know that I thank you for giving it to me and I hope this fits your standards.
Relationships: Giovanni Potage & Car Crash, Giovanni Potage & Crusher, Giovanni Potage & Darkstar, Giovanni Potage & EVERYONE EXCEPT BEN, Giovanni Potage & Flamethrower, Giovanni Potage & Spike
Comments: 48
Kudos: 173





	Assist Counter: 5

Creampuff was practically dying to become a Banzai Captain.

For one, it would mean no more going by “Creampuff.” It had been a cute nickname at first, back when he thought his own Captain was actually using it affectionately thanks to his skill at making pastries. When he’d realized the others were using it to mock him, however, he’d been more than eager to unload it at the earliest opportunity.

Therefore, he couldn’t wait for the day he could shed the moniker and make everyone call him “Giovanni Potage.” No, wait, they would have to call him “Boss.”

The nice thing was he was rather well-received by the upper levels, moreso than anyone else in his squad. If his own Captain ever got promoted, he was confident he was most likely to ascend and then be the master of his teammates. All eager young people – practically kids, even – who would be in need of guidance as they formed their own identities and gained their Blaster nicknames. And Giovanni was ready to give that guidance! If these upstart villains-in-the-making wanted a mentor, then by golly, a mentor they would have!

Why? Well…it just seemed like the right thing to do. Giovanni hadn’t exactly had great mentorship in his own Blaster career, and he wanted to give the others what he hadn’t gotten, but that wasn’t the only reason, if he was being honest with himself. He just felt as though it were more productive to help build his team up than hold them back. He couldn’t really explain beyond that. Everyone had value (save the people who had victimized him personally – they could all go die in a steamroller accident), and he took pride in validating that value for others.

His squad was of ten, not counting his Captain. In the end, when he was promoted, three others would swap out, giving him a different trio. But early on, when he was still getting to know the workings of villainy, he met the teammates who eventually became the cards he played closest to the chest: Fred, Mark, Rodrigo, Diana, Steven, and Ben.

Even before he was promoted, he gave them all his number, told them to call him if they needed anything, literally anything. At the time, they scoffed. They were villains, after all. There was no room for being nice when you were evil!

But soon they would find out how wrong they were.

* * *

The first time, it was Fred, who would later become Car Crash.

Giovanni was enjoying a day off, scrolling through his phone for new soup recipes while pacing through the grocery store. While he didn’t need to be proficient at cooking to be able to simply produce Epithet-based soup, having an expanded repertoire and actually making the flavors with his own two hands increased his creativity stat quite a bit. Besides, he liked making soup the old-fashioned way. It was satisfying, and he liked to think he’d gotten good at it.

He’d simply searched the phrase “unique types of soup” and was now beginning to load up his cart with the ingredients for lasagna soup, red-curry-and-shrimp soup, and chicken gnocchi soup. Since it was his day off, he was actually going to pay for it this time!

When his phone went off. He retrieved it as its ringtone blasted a hard rock tune, puzzled to see an unknown number on the screen. Probably a telemarketer. Or a scam – too bad for them; he was already in one scam and he didn’t have room to be suckered by a second.

Still, the polite thing to do would be to answer, so he did. Putting the phone to his ear gingerly, he said, “Uh…yello?”

“Creampuff.” The voice on the other side sounded panicked, frantic. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but I didn’t know who else to call – “ Now the voice was getting higher, cracking. And it was familiar.

“Who is this?” Giovanni asked.

“It’s, uh…it’s Fred…your teammate…”

“Oh, hey, Fred!” Giovanni brightened, smiling to show off his fangs. “What’s up?”

“Creampuff, I’m in trouble, and I don’t know what to do, and I don’t wanna call my mom, I don’t want her to know about this, but I’m totally freaking out – “

Giovanni’s eyes widened. Fred was in trouble. “Hey, hey…what’s wrong?”

“I…I just crashed my car into a lamppost outside town. The front’s all wrecked, I don’t have enough money to pay for this, it’s my only car, I know I’m supposed to call the cops but I’m a Banzai Blaster now and I’m afraid of cops and I – “

He was crying. Giovanni could hear the gasps, the catches in his voice.

“Where are you?” he asked frantically.

“I’m…I’m on Meadow Lane outside town, right where you’d turn to get onto 47 – “

“Stay there. I’m on my way.”

“I’m so sorry, Creampuff, I didn’t mean to – you don’t have to come – please – “

“I’m coming for you, whether you like it or NOT!” Giovanni yelled aggressively into the phone before hanging up. Then he gave one last wistful look to his cart. It looked like lasagna soup would have to be another day’s adventure.

He bolted, leaving the cart full of cold and frozen goods to sit out until it would all go bad and have to be checked out of inventory as waste.

* * *

Fred had returned inside the driver’s seat of his own car to cry over the steering wheel by the time the second vehicle showed up. He would’ve closed the door, but the frame was bent out of shape, not allowing that. He’d come so close to actually being pinned inside his car that way – it was fortunate the door had popped out instead of staying in. Though his car was in shambles either way.

He barely registered the sound of sneakers hitting the dirt to rush toward him. The harsh yell of “FRED!” snapped him out of his reverie.

Fred looked out the doorframe just as Giovanni skidded into view, halting before him. “Injury report!” the pink-haired man demanded.

“Wh…what?”

“How’d you get hurt? Any broken bones? Any sprains? Oh, God, you’ve got a Band-Aid on! You got cut on the dashboard window, didn’t you?”

Fred almost had to laugh. “No. That’s…that’s not even broken, Creampuff.”

“Oh.” Giovanni flicked his gaze to survey the car’s front. “It’s not.”

“And I got that cutting myself shaving, actually,” Fred admitted. “I’m fine. It’s just the car. Oh, God, the car…I screwed up so bad…”

“I’ll say.” Giovanni was now circling the lamppost like a hawk, noting where the car was quite mashed into it. “What’d you even do? Fall asleep at the wheel? How do you fuck up a car THIS BAD – “

“I DON’T KNOW!”

Giovanni realized he’d pushed it too far; Fred was openly sobbing now. Giovanni rushed back to him, instinctively reaching over to place a hand on his heaving shoulder. “Hey,” he said softly. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna fix this, okay? I’m gonna be right here with you.”

“R…really?”

“Yeah! The whole time! So here’s what we’re gonna do. We don’t have to go through the cops. I think we can just file this through the DMV. You have insurance, right?”

“Yeah, but…I’ve never used it before…”

“Lucky for you, my mom gave me the rundown on how to handle this hypothetical grown-up situation just last night!” Giovanni said proudly. “Okaaaaaaay…so I think you call insurance first, THEN get a tow truck. Got your phone?”

Fred shakingly held it up.

“Okay, good! Maybe take a few pics first? I think they need that.”

Fred slid out of the seat, visibly shaking as he snapped photos of the car’s wrecked front end.

“It’s gonna be okay, buddy,” Giovanni told him, hopefully reassuringly.

“I…I don’t know if I can pay for this,” Fred squeaked.

“Eh, insurance should cover most of it. I think. Anyway, I’ve got some cash saved up, so if you come up short, just gimme another call – “

“I CAN’T ASK YOU TO DO THAT!” Fred cried in horror.

“YOU CAN AND YOU WILL!” Giovanni insisted. “I’M GONNA BE YOUR FUTURE BOSS, REMEMBER? YOU KNOW, LIKE I KEEP REMINDING ALL OF YOU EVERY THREE HOURS FOR POSTERITY? AND I’M ORDERING YOU TO ASK ME FOR HELP! YOU’RE MY MINION, AND I’M IN CHARGE OF TAKING CARE OF YOU!”

A shaky smile from Fred. “I…I guess calling you was the right thing after all. I just…my mom would be really ashamed of me for doing this. I’ve never crashed a car before…and trust me, I’m never doing it again. But you were the only other number I had. I thought maybe you wouldn’t care, but then I thought maybe you could just give me some quick advice, not come all the way here and…” He wiped at his eyes with his shirt sleeve. “Hey…Creampuff? Can I ask for something kinda stupid?”

“Always,” Giovanni told him. “I’m an expert at stupid.”

“Um…did you hear how that sounded coming out of your – never mind. I just wanted to know if I…if I…” Fred swallowed hard. “I’m just so nervous, and I…” He squeezed his eyes shut. “CAN I HUG YOU FOR LIKE TWO SECONDS?”

Instead of answering, Giovanni made the first move, closing the distance between them and pulling Fred close in to him. Fred wasn’t sure if he’d realized exactly how tall Giovanni was compared to him as he lay his face against his teammate’s chest. Was this even okay to do, given their professional relationship? He didn’t care. He just wanted to feel some security, the way his parents used to give him when he was sad. So he threw his arms around Giovanni, squeezing him tight.

It was a little longer than two seconds.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Giovanni told Fred softly, patting him on the back. “I’ll get you through this.”

“Thank you…”

“Anytime. Hey…whaddaya think of ‘Car Crash’ as your Blaster name?”

“NO!” Fred shrieked, squirming out of the embrace – which really had done wonders; he no longer shook. “Please, I never want to relive this again once it’s over!”

“I’m just kiddin’ ya,” Giovanni snickered. “Though…y’know…to be honest, I’m gettin’ kinda sick of ‘Creampuff.’ You mind calling me ‘Giovanni’ if we’re gonna have a big emotional moment?”

“I thought you liked that name.”

“…I used to. Listen, I know YOU mean it affectionately, but – “

“Oh. Right.” Fred nodded. “Um…how do you feel about nicknames?”

“Only if they’re not total insults.”

Fred finished up taking accident photos. “How do I call my insurance?” he asked. “I’m sorry, I should know this stuff, but I’ve just never DONE this before – “

“You have that little paper that says you have insurance, right? Somewhere in the car?”

“Yeah, I keep it in the glove compartment – wait, it has a phone number on it, doesn’t it?”  
“Bingo!”

Fred returned to the front seat as he made the call, so as not to collapse should he become too nervous mid-conversation. Without any warning, Giovanni opened the passenger-side door (which wasn’t bent out of shape), sliding into the seat beside Fred and kicking his feet up onto the dashboard casually.

He simply stayed there while Fred waited for half an hour on hold to talk to an agent. He stayed while Fred nervously described the accident. He stayed up until a truck finally arrived to take away the wreck, at which point he gave Fred a ride home, reminding him, again and again, that they would get through this.

* * *

The second time, it was Mark, who would become Flamethrower.

Giovanni practically kicked open the doors to the hospital (which would have been a very stupid move, as they were automatic sliding doors.) “WHERE IS HE?” he screamed at the lobby.

Everyone turned to look at him quizzically. Giovanni chose to ignore this. “TELL ME WHERE HE IS RIGHT NOW!” he screamed, storming up to the desk.

“You’ll have to get in line, sir,” the receptionist told him.

“THIS IS A MATTER OF LIFE OR DEATH!” Giovanni insisted.

“If you’re in need of immediate assistance, you need to be in the Emergency Room. If someone else is in need of immediate assistance, they need to be in the same place.”

“Well…actually…uh…” Giovanni scratched the back of his head nervously. “He’s already checked in and everything…I just got a text saying he was here, and – “

“Then you’ll have to get in line.”

“Sorry,” Giovanni whispered sheepishly before getting into said line.

Where he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

“Geez, this is worse than the DMV.”

And waited.

Then, finally, he reached the receptionist. He stared awkwardly at her. She stared back.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah!” Giovanni slammed his hands down onto the desk. “TELL ME WHERE HE IS RIGHT NOW! I GOTTA BE WITH HIM IN HIS HOUR OF NEED!”

“Name?”

“Giovanni Potage.”

A few clicks of a keyboard. “I’m not seeing anything for that name.”

“Oh, no, no, no, MY name is Giovanni Potage. I’m looking for Mark Feuer?”

More clicks. “And what is your relationship to the patient?”

“I’m, uh…his dentist’s…roommate’s…cousin?”

“So a friend.”

“Yeah! That!”

The receptionist looked exhaustedly up to him. “Second floor, room 22B.”

“Thanks.”

As Giovanni set off, he muttered, “Geez, you’d think a medical professional would be more of a people person.”

After the elevator dropped him off on floor two, he broke back into his dramatic run until he slammed open the door of 22B. “MARK!” he screamed. “MARK, I’M HERE! I’M NOT GONNA LET YOU DIE ON ME!”

“Dude,” Mark groaned from the hospital bed, where his red hair cascaded out onto the pillow. “It’s a sprained ankle. I’m not gonna die.”

“Yeah – well – I – “ Giovanni sputtered. “I just got really scared when you texted me you got hurt that bad, okay? My brain isn’t good at making the logical sense words when panic!”

Mark’s mother regarded Giovanni with confusion; “Are you one of Mark’s friends?”

“Dentist,” Giovanni said nervously. “Cousin. Roommate.”

“Yeah,” Mark sighed, “he’s my friend.”

“So what even happened?” Giovanni entered the room, hovering over the bed; Mark’s parents regarded him with confusion.

“I fucked up a pyramid landing,” Mark related. “Hit my ankle wrong.”

“Mark,” his father scolded. “Language.”

“Oh, no, it’s cool,” Giovanni said flippantly. “He and I swear all the goddamn fuckin’ time.”

The Feuers exchanged concerned look.

“This just sucks.” Mark stared directly up at the ceiling. “I’m not gonna be able to cheerlead for a MONTH AND A HALF. It’s like my life! What am I supposed to do if I can’t do aerials?”

“That does suck,” Giovanni agreed, unsure what to say. Unlike Fred, he couldn’t help Mark by walking him through a procedure. This would take time. “But, like…you’re a pretty well-rounded person even without that, so if you’re worried this, like, takes away your identity, you can skip the existential crisis. Other than that…I dunno, you can just vent if you want. Let it out.”

“Mark, you don’t need to bother your friend – “ Mark’s father began.

“I wouldn’t BE in this bed if I’d been more careful!” Mark had already taken off. “If I’d just landed a couple degrees differently – if I could just go back and redo it – I wouldn’t be in this STUPID BED! And now I have to pay for it for six months because of TWO SECONDS of accident?”

Now Giovanni really didn’t know what to say. He, too, wanted to reverse time for Mark. The redhead hadn’t brought up Blaster work even once – it was cheerleading that weighed most heavily on his mind. (Or maybe he hadn’t said anything because he was one of the crowd who hadn’t exactly told their parents what their job really was.) “I’m…I’m really sorry.”

“God.” Mark shut his eyes. “I’m just so depressed right now.”

All of a sudden, it hit Giovanni like a freight train. “Of COURSE!”

“Yeah, of course I’m depressed – “

“No, I mean I finally know I can help!” He was scrolling through his phone. “I made this playlist the other day of cats doing stupid stuff, and I can’t – here. Watch this. You’re not gonna be able to make it either.”

“I don’t think a cat video is gonna – “

Giovanni shoved the screen into his face, forcing Mark to confront the footage of a tabby falling off a kitchen counter and into a garbage can.

Mark let out an involuntary snort. “Okay. That’s funny.”

“The good times are only beginning.”

“This friend seems…bizarre,” Ms. Feuer whispered to her husband.

“Well, he finally got Mark to smile,” he whispered back. “That’s something.”

* * *

But then visiting hours closed, and Mark was alone.

He couldn’t sleep. Not just from the pain that occasionally broke past the painkillers’ muffling screen and shot up his leg, but from the hollow feeling inside that he was deprived of his passion for more than a month.

With a sigh, he flicked on the television. Late-night programming was so weird. Black-and-white movies, strange talk shows, raunchy animation that played when it was certain the children would be past bedtime. News, but he didn’t need to see how much the world was falling apart, not when he felt like he was falling apart.

The door creaked open. A doctor in a long white lab coat shuffled in, his back to Mark. Mark gave him a glance, then rolled his eyes away to look back at the television. Likely a late-night check-in, or maybe he’d been caught awake and was about to get a lecture about how his sprain would only heal with rest.

However, the voice that asked “How’s the patient doing?” was all too familiar, even if it was artificially deeper and British.

“Creampuff?” Mark whispered through the dark. He traced the outline of the visitor. He wouldn’t have suspected Giovanni; this man’s figure was a bit too thick for that. And strangely lumpy.

“I’m afraid you have me confused for someone else.” Now his accent was Irish. “I’m Dr. Stethoscope, and I’m here to run some…uh…bone pressure tests.”

“Knock it off, Creampuff. That is the worst fake-doctor act I’ve ever seen.”

A sigh. “Really?” Giovanni stepped close enough that Mark could see it was, in fact, him. “Don’t rat me out, man! This is the only way I could get back in here after hours! They think I’m one of the staff!” He gave an excited chuckle. “I am so good at evil disguises…”

“Why’d you come back?” Mark whispered.

“Because!” Giovanni insisted. “I totally forgot when I came here the first time! I didn’t bring you anything! And you’re supposed to get your friends stuff when they’re in the hospital! That’s just how it works! Soooooooo I stopped at the gift shop and did a little…gift-shoplifting.”

He threw open the lab coat. Now Mark could see why it had looked lumpy. Taped to the inside was a ridiculous volume of plush animals, candies, and even a Get-Well balloon. It was a miracle no one had seen Giovanni squirrel it all out.

“Okay.” Giovanni began to remove the animals strategically, placing them on Mark’s bed. “This guy, his name’s Fritzie, and he’s very cuddlable. This is Rex, and I dunno, I don’t like the looks of him. I think he’s kinda shifty. But he is a German Shepherd, so, like, he’s obligated to protect you irregardless. This is Sarah, and I almost kept her for myself, but I didn’t, which is how good of a friend I am.”

Mark didn’t even think he liked stuffed animals. But the plushes stacking into a mini pyramid on his bed were filling him with a sense of security. Through their beaded eyes, he could feel the way Giovanni himself was watching over him.

“Wait,” he realized. “Are you stacking them in a pyramid because…you want them to be cheerleaders?”

“DUDE!” Giovanni cried, almost too loud. “I was going for the big dramatic reveal! You ruined it!”

“Well, sor-ry!”

“Okay, so what’s your favorite candy? I got one of everything. Please don’t say Gooey Marshmallow Bars. I’m secretly hoping you don’t like those so I can take them for myself.”

“It’s Gooey Marshmallow Bars.”

“DAMMIT!”

“Kidding.” Mark grinned. “I actually like the It’s Just One Gummy brand.”

“Cool!” Giovanni peeled away several bags. “I got you, like, fifteen, because there’s Just One in each bag. Heyyy, wait a minute, you just japed at me!”

“Did not.”

“I know a jape when I see a jape, and you totally japed! That means you’re getting less depressed!”

“Well,” Mark sighed, “I have a really good friend.”

“Really? You should introduce me to ‘em sometime!”

“…Creampuff, I can’t tell if you’re japing me back or if you’re REALLY that dense.”

“Yeah,” Giovanni groaned, “could you, like, call me ‘Giovanni’ after this? I did get you fifteen of your favorite candy. I think you owe me that much.”

“Right. Because the Boss is mean about it. That sucks, man. I LIKED your chocolate cream puffs.”

“…Maybe I need to bring you a batch next time I sneak in after hours. But only if you call me ‘Giovanni’!”

“Deal, Giovanni.”

Giovanni invited himself to sit on the other side of the bed from the plushies, and he sat with Mark to watch the strange late-night television with him until they both fell asleep, peaceful until the staff would find Giovanni and forcibly oust him from the premises in the morning.

* * *

The third time, it was Rodrigo, who would become Darkstar.

Giovanni had been commandeering his house’s living room for a one-man slasher-movie marathon. He cheered on the killer without guilt, seeing as he was a very evil person and therefore had no reason to regret championing completely fictional villainy.

(He had plans to hold a tiny mock funeral for the completely fictional victims later, because he did feel bad for them, all except the ones who mistreated their girlfriends.)

The next thing he knew, his phone was rocking out. Another number he didn’t know. “Uh, hi?” he answered. “Kind of in the middle of something – “

“Yo, Creampuff.” Rodrigo’s voice was tense, out of breath. “You gotta come get me, man! I don’t have a ride home! And I’m not gonna call Fred! He’s just gonna crash the THIRD time while I’m in his car and I’m gonna die that way!”

Giovanni sighed. “All right. What happened?”

“I just had a really bad date.”

“REALLY?” Giovanni groaned. “You’re asking me to give up my weekly movie murder-thon to bring you home from a bad DATE?”

“She drove, okay? She drove both of us and now I can’t get in the car with her to go back. She’s lookin’ for me right now to see if she can, and I’m scared of – I mean I don’t wanna listen to her yapping all the way home!”

Giovanni’s eyebrows shot up. He hadn’t missed that little slip. “What restaurant?”

“You’re gonna do it? Aw, thanks, man! I owe you such big-time, dude! I’m at Rino’s, but I’m, uh, kinda hiding out in the back. I might even be in the dumpster by the time you get here, so, uh – “

“I’ll be right over.”

He dashed out, once again forgetting to wrap up his business – when he got home, he would get an earful from his mother about leaving the television running unattended.

* * *

When Rodrigo heard the rapping on the dumpster lid, his heart skipped a beat. It had been half an hour. Surely she’d gone home. But what if she’d been spending all that time looking for him? If she’d found him –

“Rodrigo? You in there? It’s me, Giovanni.” A heavy sigh. “I mean it’s Creampuff.”

Relief washed over Rodrigo as he shoved the lid open without thinking – hard and fast enough to clip Giovanni on the chin.

“OW! WHAT HAVE I ALWAYS TOLD YOU ABOUT SAFETY?”

“Sorry, man – “

“FUCK! YOU ALMOST DECAPITATED ME! WHAT THE HELL?”

“Look, if you knew – “ Rodrigo let Giovanni’s earlier words sink in. “Your real name’s Giovanni? That’s pretty sweet.”

“Thanks,” Giovanni said proudly, distracted from his aching chin. “I picked it myself.”

“Like…your supervillain name?”

“Something like that.” Giovanni extended a hand. “Now get out of there before you cut yourself on something and get an infection!”

It took a little more than a hand – Rodrigo wasn’t quite sure how he’d vaulted the side of the dumpster in the first place, other than blaming sheer desperation, and so Giovanni had to somewhat lift him back out, and they both nearly fell to the ground from losing balance. But eventually, Rodrigo was standing on terra firma, the white dress shirt and plum-colored pants – the same shade as his hair – stained with only-kitchen-knows-what (and kitchen staff is in no mood to release that information to the public anytime soon).

“So what happened, man?” Giovanni asked. “She freaked you out that bad?”

“Freaked out?” Rodrigo laughed nervously. “Nah, bro!”

“You said you were scared.”

“I just said that so you’d actually come. Gotcha! Bad guy, right?”

Giovanni didn’t believe him. “Riiiiiight. You sure tricked me.”

“She just had bad breath,” Rodrigo was babbling. “And she was ugly. And she pronounced the ‘H’ in ‘vehicle.’ So, uh, where’d you put the car?”

Giovanni let Rodrigo keep coming up with excuses as they walked back together, but didn’t miss the way Rodrigo was glancing furtively around the parking lot. They entered the car together; Giovanni checked all the mirrors, glanced at the blind spot, made sure both his and Rodrigo’s belts were buckled, then pulled slowly out of the parking lot. 

They rode in silence for five minutes. Then Rodrigo broke down. “She really did scare me, man.”

“I thought so. What’d she do? Was she, like, one of those CreepyPasta writers or something?”  
“No, dude, that woulda been so cool! Then you, me, her, and your girlfriend or boyfriend or whatever whenever you get one could have horror movie dates together.”

“Yeah, that sounds pretty sweet.”

“Nah, she was the different kind of scary.”

“Like how?”

“Like…uhhhhh…ummmmm…”

It was bizarre to see Rodrigo at a loss for words. Giovanni just rode it out, keeping his eyes on the road. But the answer never came. “Rodrigo,” he assured. “This is a safe place. I won’t tell anyone what happened.”

“You promise?”  
“I – “

“You SWEAR?”

“Rod – “

“Cross your heart and hope to – “

“WILL YOU LET ME FINISH PROMISING, GOD DAMMIT?”

“Sorry.” Rodrigo fidgeted. “So, she, uh…she kinda kissed me without asking – “

“WHAT?”

“And then, like, I got all flustered because I thought she was just being cute and stuff, but I wasn’t ready, so I made up that I had to go to the bathroom, but when I went into the bathroom, she, uh, she followed me and tried to get her hand into my pants – “

The car swerved.

“WHOA! DUDE!” Rodrigo cried. “CALM DOWN! NOTHIN’ HAPPENED! I GOT OUTTA THERE BEFORE IT COULD! THAT’S WHEN I RAN AROUND BACK AND CALLED YOU! I PROBABLY COULDA TAKEN HER IN A FIGHT!”

Giovanni’s grip was iron on the wheel. “If I weren’t concerned with our safety in this car first and foremost,” he seethed venomously, “I’d turn this car right the hell around, go find her, and run her over, then back the car up and run her over AGAIN, then do that like thirty more times. Nobody, nobody, NOBODY does that to my future minion!”

“Dude, it’s okay,” Rodrigo told him, even though it absolutely was not okay. “I got outta there. It’s fine. I’m not even, like, worried she’ll stalk me or anything.”

“SHE’LL WHAT?”

“I mean, she was sayin’ this shit about wanting to track me down to the ends of the earth, but whatever, man, it’s not like it was a big deal. I mean, I’m a guy, she’s a girl, it’s usually the other way around.”

“I don’t care! You should know by now I don’t subscribe to gender roles! Why do you think I call all of you ‘The Boys,’ even Diana? Anyway, you’re not going home tonight.”

“What the – dude! Now YOU’RE kidnapping me?”

“I have to!” Giovanni insisted. “I gotta keep you away from her! I’m takin’ you back home. I’ll have Mom make up the guest room and – SHIT.”

“What?”

“I left the TV on. She is gonna kill me. But she loves you, so I’ll get the lecture while you get settled in the room. You can borrow some of my pajamas for the night.”

“You don’t have to do that, man,” Rodrigo said, suddenly sullen. “Even if…it would be way better for me to not be alone tonight. She freaked me out so bad. I just wanna be somewhere I feel safe. And you’re, like…always looking out for safety and everything, so when I think of being safe, I think of Creampuff.”

“Can you PLEASE switch to ‘Giovanni’?”

“’Course. It’s cooler anyway. But, like, I don’t wanna make your mom do extra work or get in your way or anything – “

“The only thing that would get in my way is if you scared me by going home when you didn’t feel safe. I’m supposed to watch over you. I’m gonna be your boss one day.”

“I know,” Rodrigo groaned. “You tell me that every three hours.”

“Damn right! I say it so you RE-MEM-BER! Besides, it’s been forever since I’ve had a good old-fashioned slumber party. Hey, wanna finish off the murder-thon with me?”

“Sure thing. Could use some good old-fashioned fake blood and guts to get my mind off things.”

“I’ll throw candy in the popcorn bowl and bring out my knitted blankets.”

Then they both went silent. Rodrigo withdrew, as close as he could to the cold car window, pressing his cheek to the glass. Giovanni knew he was still replaying the night’s trauma in his mind, worried about what could have happened if he hadn’t escaped. He would have brought out the cat videos, but both of his hands were on the steering wheel. If only there were something else…

“Hey,” he remembered. “Shotgun picks radio. That’s the rules.”

“Okay.” Rodrigo punched the AM/FM button, then scanned until he found the jazzy hit that hadn’t left his head for two weeks. “Hey, I love this one!”

“ME TOO!” Giovanni squealed. Then, without warning, he began to sing along: “Keep-IN-mind, the dead-line is closin’ in. Your byline, your headline, they’re in the bin!”

“Un-com-ple-ted,” Rodrigo joined in. “All de-le-ted!”

Both screamed “WHAT’S GOIN’ ON!” at the top of their lungs.

It was finally enough to lift Rodrigo’s mood. The murder-thon would finish the job, after having to endure a famous Mrs. P Lecture ™. He didn’t end up falling asleep in the guest room, but on the living room floor in front of the television, and though it wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep in the world, it felt like the safest.

* * *

The fourth time, it was Diana, who would become Spike.

It was a wonder Banzai Headquarters hadn’t been shut down. It wasn’t as though the Blasters were subtle about their base of operations. It was an enormous yellow skyscraper built at a crooked angle, with the jagged “B” symbol lit atop its zenith.

It was here that all bureaucratic and official work went on: mission assignments, rank arrangements, the like. Not a place to mix and mingle, really. The higher-ups couldn’t name over seventy percent of the people who regularly used this building. Yet it was where you came to sign up for open evil deeds that needed doing, or take orders from the bosses to pursue any one specific thing. It was a place to fill out your paperwork and submit it post-mission. It was a place to get belittled.

Giovanni was in the midst of a backlog of robbery reports that needed filing – he’d gotten sloppy about turning them in immediately after the fact. Could you blame him for wanting to get right to the next adventure without writing an essay about it? Though now this meant he had to endure the boredom of catching up on five at once, and after the third, he simply needed a break.

So he sauntered into the lounge, getting a cola out of the vending machine. He’d need the caffeine to stay awake during the next two reports.

Only on his way out did he notice that he wasn’t alone. He just hadn’t noticed, at first, because the other person had been incredibly quiet – which was strange, given that she was usually very loud.

“Hey, Di.” He put up a hand and waved to the violet-haired woman, who was sitting at a table with a morose expression, chin in her hands, looking down at the table but not even reading the newspaper comic strips.

“Hey, Puff.” It was a sigh of utter dismay.

Giovanni immediately took the seat across from her. “Okay, what’s wrong?”

“Huh?” Diana looked up at him. “Wrong? Nothing’s wrong. Who said anything was wrong? You know what’s wrong? The idea that anything’s wrong.”

“This isn’t helping your case, Di.”

She let out a raspy sigh. “It’s just so stupid. It’s not like a sprained ankle or a stalker on a date. I’ll be fine.”

“Don’t give me that crap, Di. Your problems are just as valid as anybody else’s! There’s nothing you could say to me that would get me to dismiss it as non-valuable! …Except if the vending machine is out of black Twisty Licorice, because that’s not a problem; it’s a MIRACLE. That stuff is gross!”

Diana cracked a smile. “It’s just…did I ever tell you I moved here from kinda far away, and all my family is back home?”

“No.” Giovanni shook his head. “I don’t think you ever did. Hey, congrats for leaving the nest!”

“You should try it sometime.”

“No thanks.”

“Thought so.” Diana’s smile grew sad. “I’m just feeling really homesick. I miss my moms. I miss my brother. I miss all my cousins. I miss the family dog. I know I could just call ‘em up, and I do that a LOT, but it’s not the same. I can’t just keep ‘em tied up on the phone all day! I miss actually BEING there, where they were always around, even when you were asleep!” She sighed. “I mean, maybe I’m lucky. No more family drama or weird fights.”

“No, no, I get it,” Giovanni told her. “Listen, my mom’s a huge nag, but the thought of cutting off ties with her? Don’t even make me think about it. What you’re telling me is totally valid.”

“And I mean…this had been going on for a while,” Diana admitted, “but I was getting used to it. I know this is what’s best for me, so I can figure out my own path, y’know? Be my own woman! But it’s harder than usual today because…” She sighed. “Don’t laugh.”

“I won’t.”

“Today’s the first birthday I spent away from home.”

“WHAT?” Giovanni’s jaw dropped. “IT’S YOUR GODDAMN BIRTHDAY AND YOU DIDN’T TELL ME? WHA – I WAS GONNA MAKE YOU CUPCAKES! Or maybe just buy donuts, I dunno. I’ve never heard of anyone MAKING a donut, but I get the feeling you’d like donuts better than cupcakes? The point is, I am TRUSTING the WHOLE TEAM to tell me their birthdays so I can make a big deal out of ‘em! You know how many birthdays I have on my birthday calendar? BEN. I DON’T WANT BEN’S. HE’S STUPID.”

“Puff,” Diana posed, “you think maybe people don’t tell you their birthday because they don’t want you to embarrass ‘em in the middle of the office?”

“No, that can’t be right. My celebratory gestures are fun and spirit-lifting, not embarrassing.”

“…Right.” Diana nodded just to pacify him. “Anyway, I already did the group chat with my family this morning, and now that’s all I get. I’m on my own now. I was gonna go pick up a cake after work and eat it myself, but I think I might actually just start crying if I sing my own ‘Happy Birthday’!”

“Oh, you are NOT doing that!” Giovanni slammed his fist onto the table. “I may not be able to do anything about you missing your family, but I can at least make sure you don’t spend your birthday alone! What time are you gonna be free tonight?”

“Um…six?”

“Great! I’ll be at your place at 5:15.”

“…You’re going to wait for forty-five minutes for me to get home?”

“It’s extreme loitering.”

Diana chuckled. “You would. So then what happens? You and I eat the cake together? Geez, that still sounds kinda sad.”

Giovanni shook his head. “Forget the cake. Do not buy a cake. Soon as you get home, I am taking you out to the best damn restaurant in the city. Mark my words! MARK THEM RIGHT NOW!”

* * *

Diana had expected Giovanni to make reservations at somewhere upscale like Rino’s. She realized, once she arrived at the “best restaurant,” that she had completely misunderstood Giovanni, and that was on her.

Because of course his favorite restaurant would be Charlie A. Cheddar’s Pizzeria and Arcade.

Diana was regretting putting on her nice blue blazer for this.

“See,” Giovanni explained as he walked her to their table, “the trick is not to look the animatronics dead in the eye. Or else you’ll see into their souls and all the sins they’ve committed.”

“Definitely…not doing that.”

“Anyway!” Giovanni plopped down at a seat. “Don’t let the kitschy exterior fool you. The pizza here is actually way better than it needs to be. Wait. You’re not lactose-intolerant, are you? Should’ve asked.”

“No, I like pizza.” Diana sat down, stone-faced. She had to be the oldest person here. (She was pretty sure she was older than Giovanni as of this birthday, but she didn’t want to bring it up, because if she turned out to be right, Giovanni would probably get all mopey.)

“If I may,” Giovanni told her, “I recommend the Literally Everything in the Kitchen Pizza. Sounds gross, but tastes great!”

“…Sure.”

“Hmm.” Giovanni stared at Diana over top of his menu with an air of suspicion. “I get the feeling you’re…resentful.”

“Uh, yeah, I’m resentful,” Diana asserted as she blushed. “This is a kids’ restaurant! I knew you were immature, but what the fuck, dude?”

“You can’t swear in here. The staff gets mad if they hear you.”

“THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT!”

“Look.” Giovanni set down the menu. “To be honest? That’s why I love this place. Because being a grown-up means you get to be a kid whenever you want. Not, like, in the creepy way, but you know how when you’re a kid, you gotta listen to what your mom tells you and stick to her rules, and if she doesn’t like something you like, then she might take away from you, or set limits on how much you can do this or eat that? But then you turn into an adult, and even if you still live in her house and have to abide by her rules, you don’t have to report in on everywhere you go with the car! You can watch whatever movies you want without her having to screen them for being kid-appropriate! Because you’re NOT a kid! But it’s all the stuff you wanted to do when you were one, right? Whenever I’d come here as a kid, I always felt like I could NEVER stay long enough. So you know what? I’m an adult now! I can play games all night if I wanna play games all night! I can have dinner be pizza and dessert and that’s it! I’m allowed! And you’re an adult, too, so you should get to have fun stuff and eat junk food as much as you want, dangit!”

Diana was about to argue, but then suddenly realized Giovanni was right. How long had it been since she’d even played an arcade game? Or just had pizza as her main course? Her eyes drifted to the prize counter, where a very large plush rabbit awaited whoever could rack up two hundred tickets. She liked rabbits. She also liked plushes, but she had held off on collecting any, leaving her childhood collection back home in the country. She was a grown-up now. She didn’t need stuffed animals to keep her company at night…but maybe she still wanted them.

“You’re actually a frickin’ genius, Puff,” she told her teammate. “Okay. Yeah. I’m in.”

“Great, because if you walk out, I’m still staying, and I want a fair fight at Rock and Roll Rebellion.”

“Is that the one where you have to hit the pad with your feet AND press the buttons on the guitar at the same time?”

“Bingo.”

“I’ve always wanted to try that game!”

A waiter approached, unsure what to make of it at first that he was apparently serving two adults with no children, but kept his customer-service smile plastered on. “Hi! I hope you two are having an amazing, amusing day! What can I get you?”

“I’ll have one order of – “ Diana glanced at the menu. “HOLY SH – NEIKIES, THAT THING YOU RECOMMENDED IS EXPENSIVE, PUFF!”

“Uh, duhhhh,” Giovanni told her. “That’s why I’m paying for it.”

“Puff, I can’t – “

“Shhhh. It’s your birthday. Just let it happen.” Giovanni folded his menu. “One Extended-Family-Size Literally Everything in the Kitchen, please.”

“Coming right up.” The waiter jotted down the order. “Drinks?”

Giovanni gestured to Diana.

“Grape soda,” Diana said. “The EXACT kind your mom won’t let you have because you keep spilling it on the carpet.”

“We only have one kind of grape soda,” the waiter told her, “but I’m pretty sure it fits that description.”

“I’ll just take a cola,” Giovanni said. “Heavy on the caffeine.”

“I can’t increase the amount of caffeine in a drink, but otherwise, I can get that. Dessert?”

Diana attempted, but Giovanni talked over her; “No. We’re good.”

“Puff!” Diana hissed.

“I said we’re GOOD,” Giovanni insisted. “Also, it’s her birthday! Still no dessert, though. But if you could do the song…”

As the waiter nodded knowingly and walked away, Diana ranted, “I wanted a cake at the LEAST! What happened to doing what you wanted because you’re an adult now?”

“Yeah,” Giovanni replied, “but I thought if you got a cake, it might fill you up before you got to the actual last course.”

“What the – “

She had no idea how he’d gotten the plastic container into the restaurant without it being noticed. He slid the square across the table at her. As she opened it, she gasped.

“HOLY F – RICK, PUFF! ARE THESE – “

“So, like, I’ve been trying to get everyone else to NOT use my Blaster name anymore because I’m kinda sick of it,” Giovanni told her, “but I didn’t wanna correct you because it was actually awesome foreshadowing for the fact that I actually made you my famous chocolate cream puffs.”

“You even remembered I liked the chocolate ones best!”

“Um, yeah? Why wouldn’t I?”

Diana stuffed a cream puff into her mouth, then immediately began crying.

“Oh, no – “ Giovanni flinched. “Is it bad? It’s bad, isn’t it? I thought I went a bit heavy on the powdered sugar – “

“These are happy te-e-eeeaaaars!” Diana sobbed around the pastry in her mouth. “I can’t believe you went to all this trouble for my freakin’ birthdayyyyyyyy!” Then, unbidden: “I think I LOVE you!”

She meant it, she realized. How could she not? He was so kind, so thoughtful, so wonderful in every way –

“I love you too, Diana.”

Could it be?

“I love all my teammates!” This said with an innocent grin.

Diana felt her heart plummet as though tossed into an empty elevator shaft. Oh, well. At least he was a good friend, if oblivious. And furthermore, he might change his mind later…

The waitstaff converged on their table to bring them a pizza almost as big as the table itself, clapping in time and singing a cutesy song about it being Diana’s birthday. After she and Giovanni had eaten as much of the pizza as they could stomach (which was more than you’d expect), washed down with a not-so-healthy serving of chocolate cream puffs for each, they went wild at the arcade, shooting tiny basketballs, trying to out-dance-and-guitar each other, going head-to-head on an archery simulator.

At the end of the night, they pooled their prize tickets to find two hundred and fifteen – enough for Diana to walk away with the rabbit and also a little keychain shaped like a spiky ball, shimmering in silvery paint that was likely going to chip within a few days but not diminish the sheer aesthetic it would lend to Diana’s favorite black purse.

* * *

The fifth time, it was Steven, who would become Crusher.

Giovanni sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the television, engrossed in a racing game on single-player mode. As he steered his edgy black car around the AI opponents on the track, he leaned his body this way and that to match the car’s movements, as though that would help it make every turn.

The doorbell rang.

“GIOVANNI!” his mother screamed. “GET THE DOOR!”

“I’M BUSYYYYY!” he yelled back. “YOU GET IT!”

“I’M ALL THE WAY UPSTAIRS FOLDING LAUNDRY, SINCE YOU NEVER DO IT! YOU’RE CLOSER TO THE DOOR AND YOU’RE JUST PLAYING YOUR STUPID VIDEO GAMES!”

“FOLDING LAUNDRY TAKES LITERALLY NO EFFORT, MOM! YOU CAN TAKE A BREAK FOR TWO SECONDS! I’M ON A ROLL HERE!”

“IF IT TAKES NO EFFORT, WHY DO YOU NEVER DO IT? YOU CAN DO YOUR OWN LAUNDRY FROM NOW ON IF THAT’S HOW YOU FEEL!”

“FINE, FINE! I’LL GET THE GODDAMN DOOR!”

“GIOVANNI! LANGUAGE!”

“SOR-RYYYYYY! THE GOSH-DARN DOOR! HAPPY?”

He paused his game, hustled to the foyer, then pried open the door to see a familiar face behind it. “Oh, hey, Steven!” he greeted. “Long time, no see!”

“…We were just on a heist yesterday,” Steven reminded him. Steven, oft-regarded as the team strongman: the tallest and beefiest of the Blaster squad, with a deep voice to match.

“Right,” Giovanni replied.

“This is a bad time, isn’t it?” Steven grumbled.

“No. Why do you think that?”

“I heard yelling.”

“Nah, that’s just how me and Mom talk to each other. It’s our little way of saying ‘I love you.’ What’s up?”

Steven faced the ground, shuffling a foot. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “It’s just that…the others all told me about how you were ready to help them with the car crash and the birthday dinner and everything, and I just thought – I just thought - !”

Giovanni’s eyes widened. Steven had a problem and needed Giovanni’s help to solve it. “Say no more, my friend. Well, actually, yeah, I’m gonna need you to say what the problem is. But not here! Come on in! Get comfy.”

Steven had never been inside Giovanni’s house before. It was cozy, he thought. No wonder the man didn’t want to leave his mother’s roof. Just walking inside made him feel as though he was part of the household –

Which, all considered, really just made things worse.

“Ignore that,” Giovanni said as he gestured to the television with the paused game on it. “I’ll pick it up later. Right now, it’s friend-helpin’ time!” He flopped down onto the couch, patting the cushion next to him. “C’mon, sit down!”

Steven did so gingerly. He wasn’t ultimately certain he belonged here. Not enough to lay back the way Giovanni was doing, the way he had a right to do in his own house.

“So.” Giovanni gave him an earnest smile. “Let’s talk. What’s up?”

Steven turned away, unable to meet his gaze. He was so happy. Unflappably happy. He didn’t deserve this. It wasn’t even his problem. Just Steven’s. Maybe Giovanni thought he wanted to talk it out, but Steven had a hard time believing he actually wanted to help shoulder this burden.

“If you don’t tell me,” Giovanni warned, “I’m gonna have to tickle it out of you.”

“NO!” Steven screeched; he was horribly ticklish, to the point where it could completely incapacitate him in battle. “I’ll talk, I’LL TALK!”

“Theeere we go!” Giovanni smirked. “Now. Tell your future boss all your problems, and he’ll make ‘em go away with his Soul-Slugger Doom Bat.”

If only it were that easy. Heaving in a deep breath, Steven began: “I called my parents today. I finally told them something I’ve wanted to tell them for a while.”

“Yeah. Uh-huh. I follow.”

“I told them that I’m…” Oh, how could he go through this again? He knew Giovanni would be accepting, given what he knew, but all the same, if there was even the slightest chance history would repeat… “…gay.”

“CONGRATULATIONS!” Giovanni cried, giving Steven a light slap on the back. “Y’know, coming out is so hard. It really sucks! The good news is, you were SUPER brave to do it, and the even better news is that the second time is waaaaay easier, and the third time is like nothing at all!”

“Wait.” Steven did the math. “You came out to more than three people.”

Giovanni realized the miscommunication. “Uh, no…I meant I came out as…threedifferentthings.”

Steven knew Giovanni had identified as bisexual, as did the other Blasters. As for what else he could be on top of that, Steven was immensely curious, yet knew far better than to pry. “I hope it gets better from here,” he sighed. “Because I was so afraid. When I said I had something to tell them, they told me they’d love me no matter what. But I guess that was a lie, because when I said it, they got angry, and they…they told me never to come around the house again…that I wasn’t their son anymore…I’m not even welcome on the holidays; I – “

He broke down completely. He felt he must look so silly – he was large, brawny, gruff-voiced, and blubbering like a child, sobbing wet tears into his hands as he hid his face.

Softly cutting through his wails: a growl of “How could they?”

Steven didn’t respond. All he could do was cry his heart out.

“HOW COULD THEY?” Giovanni repeated, screaming now. “Parents are supposed to love their kids, dammit! Can’t they see how awesome you are? Who you date is none of their damn business! They should be proud that you might bring ‘em home a son-in-law one day! If they turned their backs on you…they’re just a pair of fucking ASSHOLES!”

“DON’T SAY THAT!” Steven screamed through his hands. “They’ve ALWAYS been there for me! They’ve always loved me! And I…I still love them! That’s why this hurts so much! Because I thought I could always count on them, but I was wrong! I knew they didn’t…I knew they weren’t open-minded, but they were always good to me, so I thought I’d be the first person they wouldn’t judge! I thought…I thought they would still love me…”

Without any warning, he felt a pair of wiry arms clamp around him, pulling him close to another body. He pivoted, lowering his hands from his face to seize Giovanni in return, clinging to him for dear life as he bawled.

Giovanni’s own heart was breaking. All of the other problems, they could be fixed in some capacity. Fred’s car was repaired (four times now). Mark’s ankle healed. Rodrigo’s stalker met an “accident” at the hands of the Banzai Blasters (not a fatal one; just the sort that would keep her off her feet for a while and make her think about what she’d done). Diana had arranged for five birthday dates at Charlie A. Cheddar’s in advance. But Giovanni couldn’t make Steven’s parents love him again. Nor could he set out for revenge, knowing his friend still felt such high regard and affection for the horrible monsters who’d cast him out. Though Giovanni could sympathize, he realized. He wasn’t sure what could get him to stop thinking his mom was at least a good roommate and laundry-folder, if not a full-on friend. She already yelled at him about twelve times a day, and he still loved her. But she loved him, too, and Steven’s parents simply didn’t anymore, at the flip of a switch, for the worst reason possible.

When Giovanni asked “How could they just turn their backs on you?”, his own voice cracked, and he found himself crying. “You’re so wonderful, so amazing…you’re my friend, and you’re worth so much to me…how aren’t you worth anything to your own fucking parents?”

He reined himself in, tried to keep control. Ever since Fred’s first wreck, he’d been practicing hugs on a pillow to get better at them, the way some practiced kissing on their hands or other odd objects, and now he had mastered the art, sliding a hand back and forth between Steven’s shoulder blades as he clung on softly.

“Thank you,” Steven choked. “I thought…maybe if they didn’t want me…that meant I just…couldn’t be wanted…”

“No. NO! Don’t you EVER let me hear you say that again, okay? EVER!”

“But what if – “

“YOU’RE NOT! YOU’RE A BEAUTIFUL PERSON AND YOU’RE AS VALID AS ANYBODY ELSE AND I’M GLAD YOU’RE MY FRIEND, OKAY? AND I’M NEVER GONNA GIVE UP ON YOU THE WAY THEY DID!”

That was probably the moment when Steven fell for Giovanni, looking back. The seeds were already there – as he came to terms with his sexuality, he could no longer deny how handsome he found his teammate, or how much he appreciated all the little quirks that made him Giovanni. (Not Creampuff, but Giovanni. The others had briefed him.)

“D…does your mom know?” Steven asked softly. “About you?”

“Yeah. She does. All three times. Hey…if I tell you a secret, can you keep it?”

“Yes…”

Sensing the tone had changed, Steven finally let go of Giovanni, which was so incredibly difficult, like the man was made of chewed gum. “So you know I’m into both,” Giovanni told him. “And occasionally neither-of-the-above.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, uh…first off…‘bisexual’ might not be the right word so much as…‘biromantic’?” Giovanni scratched the back of his head nervously. “I. Um. I don’t really wanna…do it. You know, it. Don’t make me spell it out – “

“Oh. I get it.”

“Yeah. So that’s number two. Probably gonna make my dating life a lot harder.”

Steven disagreed; he would gladly go celibate for the man. Not that he needed to say that then and there.

“As for the third…uh…that actually kinda came first.” Giovanni tapped his index fingertips together. “Soooooo…before you knew me…there was this half of my life when my mom and I…both…thought I was a girl?”

Oh. Now that, Steven wouldn’t have guessed. Wait, he should say that out loud; “I would never have guessed that!”

(Did it change his feelings? No. Oh, he was in deep.)

“Yeeeaahhh,” Giovanni admitted. “That was a thing. I’m just…real lucky she took it as well as she did. Let me pick out my own name and everything. Switched right over to treating me like her son instead of her daughter.”

“Do you ever…worry about being found out?” Steven asked. “It’s just that I wouldn’t have guessed because you’re so comfortable with your feminine side – “

“Yeah, well, who says I have to be super masculine to be a guy? I’m a GUY, end of story! I’m allowed to know how to do my nails and knit and cook and all that! Hell, I don’t even get why dresses need to have a gender! What makes a skirt so different from pants, huh? I, Giovanni Potage, say FUCK gender roles! I get to decide how I want to be a guy, dammit!”

“I…love that,” Steven said breathily.

“…Though that is kinda why I don’t say my real actual favorite color is pink,” Giovanni stated. “Because then people would get the wrong idea. ‘Ooh, Giovanni, why even be a guy if you’re just gonna act like a girl – ‘”

“I don’t think that at all!” Steven declared. “And I think you look beautiful in pink! I know because of your hair and your eyes!”

“…Thanks.” Giovanni smiled softly at him.

All of a sudden, something horrid occurred; Steven felt the bottom of his stomach dropping. “Is…is that why the Boss teases you with ‘Creampuff’? Does he know?”

“Oh, no!” Giovanni actually laughed. “I’m suuuper stealth. You’re the first Blaster to know. No, he has no idea. It’s more like…he uses that name to remind me of how I’m APPARENTLY weak and soft and squishy on the inside and not villain material at all. And too sweet to make it in the bad guys’ world. Ugh, this is starting to get depressing. This wasn’t about me in the first place! It was about you!”

“I don’t think you’re too soft,” Steven told him. “Or too sweet. I like that you’re soft and sweet. Because you acted that way to me, now I can be a better bad guy because I can be confident that somebody does love me!”

“RIGHT?” Giovanni insisted. “THAT’S EXACTLY IT!” His eyes then lost their fire. “So…you’re…gonna be okay?”

“Eventually.”

A light hand placed on Steven’s forearm. “I’m here if you need me. Always. Just call.”

“I will.”

A heavy silence settled before Giovanni figured he should move things in a different direction. He gestured to the television and the car still paused mid-race on it. “You wanna go a few rounds? More fun with two players, after all.”

“Yeah. Sounds like fun.”

Within moments, the two of them were screaming obscenities at each other as they tried to run each other’s virtual cars off the track, and it occurred to Steven that things might, just might, get better after all.

* * *

The sixth time, it was Giovanni himself.

Their boss had once gone by Snap, and he never really abandoned the name upon his promotion. (It sounded a lot more intimidating than “Gregory.”) Snap was one of the smallest people in the whole organization – very short, and rail-thin. But very, very agile and muscular. More importantly, ruthless. To underestimate him would be your doom.

And everyone who had ever worked with Snap knew not to underestimate him.

That was why Giovanni knew he was in for a world of hurt even before the roundhouse kick connected with his face, sending him stumbling against the hard wall of the Blaster HQ hallway.

“FIVE…HUNDRED…DOLLARS!” Snap reiterated, advancing upon the fallen Giovanni and smacking his fist into the opposite palm. “ALL YOU BRING ME IS FIVE HUNDRED LOUSY DOLLARS! I SENT YOU AFTER THOUSANDS!”

“It was an ACCIDENT, okay?” Giovanni protested. “I tripped the alarm by accident, and the cops showed up, and we left with all we could grab!”

“NOT GOOD ENOUGH, CREAMPUFF!”

A sharp kick to his stomach kept him down.

“That really is the best name for you, you know,” Snap reiterated as he kept kicking, hitting all of Giovanni’s soft spots. “You’re BARELY solid-looking on the outside, but on the inside? You’re a mess of incompetent goop.”

“Please stop!” Giovanni begged, vision blurring with tears. “I know! I get it already! I’m soft and sweet and not cut out for this! Just GET DONE ALREADY!”

“NO.” Now the foot stamped onto his head, making him dizzy. “This time, you fucked it up too bad, Creampuff. What am I supposed to tell the Associate Justices now that I have less than a SIXTH of what I promised?”

“That you should’ve gone to get it yours – OW!”

“You know what Associate Justices like more than money?” Snap told him. “Cruelty. Something that’ll prove my moxie. Since YOU fucked up my assignment – “

“WHICH YOU SHOULD’VE DONE IF YOU WANTED – OWOWOWOW!”

“I’m gonna have to find another way to prove myself to the Justices,” Snap said menacingly. “Oh, I know…Creampuff, your career is about to be over like THAT.”

He snapped his fingers. That was how he’d gotten his name. No one to date had heard that snap and been unable to escape their fate.

“After all…” Snap chuckled. “You’ll only be half a villain with half your eyesight.”

“WHAT?”

“If I turn in your eye ripped fresh outta your skull, the Justices’ll know I REALLY mean business around here, and I don’t go soft on Creampuffs like you.”

Giovanni attempted desperately to crawl away, but Snap was standing on his back now, pinning him down as the smaller man searched his pockets for a knife. “Oh, don’t worry,” he threatened. “This’ll only hurt for…as long as I can draw it out.”

“Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh FUCK – “

He was forcibly flipped over. Watched Snap, who sat on his chest, raise the knife high. The blade sparkled once beneath the fluorescents.

Giovanni shut his eyes, waiting for the blow.

“YOU GET OFF HIM!”

The roar alerted him to the entry of a third party. Then, all of a sudden, the weight on his chest was gone, and he heard a hard thump and Snap’s angered growl.

Giovanni scrambled to a kneeling position, eyes wide open now. Steven (well, Crusher now) had tackled Snap right off him, trying to pin him to the ground.

“CRUSHER, NO!” Giovanni screamed.

“NO ONE HURTS GIOVANNI POTAGE ON MY WATCH!” Crusher roared. “GUYS! NOW!”

With a harpy screech, Diana – Spike – tore around the corner and stomped on the wrist of Snap’s that Crusher had pinned down, forcing him to let go of the knife. She then scooped the knife up, hurling it to embed its blade into the wall.

Snap wriggled out from beneath Crusher’s grip, righting himself and making fists. “Wrong move, trainees,” he growled, teeth gritted. “You’re about to pay for that.”

“GET HIM!”

With that rallying cry, Fred (Car Crash) led Rodrigo (Darkstar) and Mark (Flamethrower) down the hall toward the scene. Flamethrower soon took the lead, however, calling out, “ATTACK THE CROWD! ELEVATOR!”

On cue, Car Crash and Rodrigo each bent down to scoop up one foot of Flamethrower’s, losing no momentum in the process.

“SELL IT!” Flamethrower yelled, and then he was pitched, performing an aerial somersault that ended in his leg extending to hit Snap right in the back and bowl him over. As Snap went tumbling, Flamethrower landed on one knee, throwing his arms up in a V-motion.

“Didn’t even sprain my ankle that time!” he said with a toothy smirk.

“Get him, Darkstar!” Car Crash yelled. “I’ll catch up!” He stopped to throw open the door to the nearby janitor’s closet.

The moment Snap had regained his bearings, Darkstar’s fist connected with his face. Then came Spike’s, then Steven’s, then Darkstar’s again, then Flamethrower’s, then Darkstar’s a third time.

“BEEP BEEP!” Car Crash was now surfing on a janitor’s supply cart: the closest thing he could find to a car. He knew his strengths and weaknesses, and was ready to play them.

When the cart hit Snap, the Captain went flying an impressive distance down the hall. It took him longer to get back up this time as he took stock of his bruises and breaks.

It was true that no one who had heard his infamous snap had escaped their fate until then. But no one had ever tried to retaliate as a team until then.

The quintet pursued Snap, Crusher in the lead. Crusher wanted to rip Snap’s throat out then and there, but for one, he wasn’t sure he was ready to move on to murder so early in his career, and for another, he was pretty sure ripping his throat out wasn’t even physically possible. So he halted before the Captain, the others falling in line behind him. “You ever, EVER touch him again – “ Crusher began.

“And we’re gonna make you HURT,” Spike seethed.

“That’s a threat,” Darkstar said cockily. “In case you weren’t sure. I dunno, you’re pretty dumb.”

“Dumb enough to think Giovanni wouldn’t have backup,” Flamethrower growled. “If you knew him at all – “ 

“Then you’d know EXACTLY why he’s worth defending!” Car Crash cried.

Snap let out a laugh. “THAT Creampuff? Really? He’s your weakest link!”

“HEY!” Car Crash stomped his foot. “You wanna know something about cream puffs? They’re sweet – “

“And they make people happy – “ Flamethrower said.

“And motivated – “ Darkstar contributed.

“And they bring teams together – “ Spike added.

“And a lot of people,” Crusher seethed, “would KILL for a well-baked cream puff.”

Snap now knew better than to try and take the five on again. “You…don’t think you can get away with this!” he barked. “The minute I tell my Senpai what you did…you can all kiss your jobs GOODBYE!” He snapped his fingers again.

And instead of recoiling in fear, his squad just laughed raucously.

Growling like a dog, Snap hurtled down the hall to snitch on his underlings to the nearest superior.

“WOO!” Spike began to leap about excitedly. “WE DID IT! WE DID IT WE DID IT! HIGH-FIVE ME!”

She put up her hands, and Car Crash, Darkstar, and Flamethrower took turns smacking their palms to hers. Crusher, however, had other things on his mind:

“GIOVANNI!”

He raced toward the thin, pink-haired man, who had been staring after his teammates in absolute shock, still on his knees.

“Giovanni,” Crusher repeated as he kneeled before him. “Please say you’re okay, PLEASE say you’re okay – “

“OH MY GOD!” Car Crash shrieked, arriving beside Crusher. “YOU HAVE A TON OF BRUISES ON YOUR FACE! SOMEBODY GET HIM AN ICE PACK AND A BUNCH OF PILLOWS!”

“I’M ON IT!” Darkstar made to blaze away.

“Hey, wait! No!” Giovanni shook his head. “You guys won! See?” He pointed at his shining black eye, which was receding as they spoke.

“…Oh, wow,” Flamethrower realized. “We did. We totally did.”

“Does it hurt?” Crusher asked softly.

“Did he do any permanent damage?” Spike asked worriedly. “Should I kill him?”

“Can I kill him even if he didn’t?” Darkstar asked.

“You…” Giovanni’s eyes were wide, almost bugging out of his face. “You guys…”

His breath hitched as he began, involuntarily, to sob.

“Giovanni!” Crusher gasped. “Guys, we gotta get him medical attention! He’s still hurt somewhere – “

“Noooooo!” Giovanni bawled. “I’m crying because I can’t believe you guys did that! You guys did that for ME! That’s not how it’s supposed to work! I was gonna be your boss, remember? I take care of you guys! I just – I can’t – “ He dabbed at his eyes with a sleeve. “I’m just really touched right now, okay? I didn’t know any of you would wanna do that just for me!”

“Are you KIDDING?” Car Crash replied in shock. “After all you did for us?”

“Why WOULDN’T we?” Flamethrower added.

“We love you!” Spike asserted. “Especially me!”

“Well, I love you more!” Crusher tried to one-up.

“We’re lost without ya, boss,” Darkstar said with a smile. “You guys thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?”

“Group hug?” Car Crash guessed.

“GET HIM!” Crusher rallied.

They all piled around Giovanni, dropping to their knees to match his height and sweeping him into their conjoined group embrace.

“You…you guys…” Giovanni sniffled. “I love you all so much…”

There was the sound of a toilet, flushing. Another Blaster entered the hallway, not having washed his hands. “Whoa,” Ben remarked. “What the hell did I miss?”

“EXCEPT YOU, BEN!” Giovanni screamed. “WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU WHEN I ALMOST GOT MY EYE RIPPED OUT?”

“WHA – IN THE FUCKING BATHROOM! I HAD TO PEE!”

Giovanni rolled his eyes. “You know what? I guess I love you, too, in my own weird hate-you kinda way. Get in here.”

Ben eagerly approached the group.

“BUT GO BACK AND WASH YOUR DAMN HANDS FIRST!”

He scurried back into the bathroom immediately to do so.

“You know,” Giovanni remarked, “after that, we are all probably so dead. But I want you all to know that whatever happens, I’m gonna be there to get you all through it as least-dead as possible! Just call me! Or text! Or knock on my door! Or get creative next time. I dunno, send a message by falcon? Yeah, that’s badass. One of you should use a falcon next time.”

“No matter what happens,” Car Crash insisted, “we’ll face it together!”

Ben rushed back out, shaking off his wet hands. “I even used soap this time!” he promised before falling to his knees and throwing his arms around his teammates’ backs.

“No matter what,” Giovanni resolved, “I am ALWAYS gonna take care of my pals.”

* * *

(When Snap attempted to report the incident to the upper echelon, he was fired from the position of Banzai Captain for losing to a team of inexperienced neophytes. Giovanni was promoted to his spot immediately.)


End file.
